O how she won't love me again,
Cold in her disposition, smiling at nothing and gluing
A diadem of frost on her black head,
Ever so harshly, ever so harshly,
Like she is meant to never see me again.
O the utter confusion,
I do not know if I feel the same.
She is now a different woman,
Fed with colorful accusations
Against me and everyone else.
She is always hurting,
Hurting with a bout of Stockholm syndrome
In her family's frozen castle.
They are hidden amongst the plain suburbs,
And it is exceedingly strenuous
That I have found another way there
To tell her mother everything.
Was it a mistake, a hostaging mistake?
No, I am not like her, and I never want her
To love me again.
She is lost, all icy skin and bones,
Stumbling upon lies suckled
By the many evil men she favors.
Alien, they are, and she fades into providence
To even more of them.
She is but unsalvageable,
and I never want her
To love me again.
